Hello, Fanfiction universe; it's Pan again, bringing you a new story in this crazy year of 2020 for a fandom that I recently got involved in. This will be loosely off of the 2017 adaptation. I hope you all enjoy it!

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN IT CHAPTER 1 IN ANY WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM!

You know who you are, why can't you take it?

He shook his head for what appeared to have been the fifth time during class; he hoped his teacher, Mr. Walsh, didn't recognize anything wrong.

'Shut it, I am taking things slow! All of this is still new…'

You're just chickenshit, admit it. You're simply afraid that—

Another shake of the head, and this time, his teacher spotted it.

"Uh, Richie – are you okay?"

"…Yes, sir," was the teenager's response.

As Mr. Walsh continued with the lecture, Richie tried to be superlative against his mind.

That all went out the window when the class bell rang.

"Oh boy, guess time flew by faster than expected. Have a great weekend, everyone!"

With his teacher dismissing the class, Richie got up and left the classroom, heading towards his last class of the day.

Okay, one more class to go, then a half week before summertime – you got this!

"Hey, trash – what's shaking?"

Richie stopped dead in his tracks at the sound of his botched nickname being called out, though it was hard to completely stop with the traffic flow of middle and high schoolers coming and going.

"For the last time…sorry, pardon me…"

He swam upstream and reached the source.

"…the name's trashmouth."

Eddie laughed. "I know, just love fucking with you."

"Yeah, I know a good fucking when I see one."

"Oh…for Pete's sake…"

This time, it was Richie that laughed.

It was the bantering that made Richie and Eddie a unique pair. Sure, sometimes they go overboard, but each one wouldn't be afraid to call the other out on it.

As the two made their way to class, they bumped into Bill, their other good friend.

"H-hey there, guys; almost r-ready for the weekend?"

"You bet my sweet ass I am," Richie said, "and…oh shit, we have a test in this class, huh?"

"You heard was Miss Rickards said about it – shit's baby stuff."

"Yeah, to you guys."

"D-don't be too worried; w-we can st-study together."

"I'd appreciate that," Richie said.

"Count me out – you know how my mother is with hangouts."

"What, she's afraid you going to return home limping and bloody after practicing tugging on yourself a few dozen times?"

Eddie was left dumbfounded. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Richie."

"Can't, it's permanently stuck in there."

Bill laughed, and as the three made it inside the classroom, the intrusive thoughts returned to Richie.

Oh, would you look at that, Eddie won't be able to make it to the study session. You must be crushed!

He couldn't admit it at the time, but deep down in his core, he felt awful.

Who knows the next time I'll be able to hang with Eds…oh, stop being such a wuss! You have the whole summer to hang and…and…

"Good afternoon, everyone! Now, let's go over some problems for next week."

As Miss Rickards continued, the teen returned to one thought.

…and truly figure out yourself.

Being a teenager sucks!

Richie found himself straight at home after school, lying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, allowing his mind to wander freely.

Dad didn't prep me enough for this, and neither did Mom. They both wouldn't understand the thought patterns I've been reeling time and time again. Oh, why does Eddie Kaspbrak make me weak with every hello?

Richie shook his head furiously and grabbed his pillow, hitting his head with it.

"Stupid! Stupid thoughts!" he yelled.

He forcibly flung the pillow back down on the bed, almost on the verge of tears.

"I have everything a teen could ask for; hell, I have my own boombox! But not even that could help me with this."

Now, now, don't you fret – you have the whole summer to—

'I know,' Richie thought, 'Figure out why I'm like this…'

Richie sat upright as one thought loomed over him.

'Do I…am I in love?'